


Sweet Sixteen

by Minnow_53



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:41:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25238656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minnow_53/pseuds/Minnow_53
Summary: A few years after the Second Wizarding War, Remus relives a day in the past.  Mainly set in the MWPP era.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Kudos: 11





	Sweet Sixteen

**Author's Note:**

> First published on LiveJournal 20//2/05.

‘What have you got for me, Professor?’

The thin, greying man put a battered case on the counter, opened it and drew out a few books, a handful of knuts and sickles, a gold chain.

‘That’s not a lot.’

The thin man shrugged. ‘It’s all I have.’

The old man behind the counter considered, then said, ‘Well, times are hard. I suppose that’ll do. Have you chosen your day?’

‘Yes.’

‘Better tell you the drill, then.’ The old man gave a toothless grin. ‘You won’t be able to change anything. You will act and speak and feel exactly as you did on that day. You may find you can alter things when the spell is wearing thin, but don’t even try. One false move and the magic is aborted instantly.’ 

Remus understood perfectly.

‘Now, I can bring back the child, Professor Lupin. But I can’t take away the man. When people return, they tell me their perceptions were - a little strange. Are you prepared for that?’

‘Of course.’

The old man took a piece of parchment from the pile on the shelf behind him and shoved it across the counter. ‘If you could just sign this waiver…thank you, Professor.’

*

Remus put the quill down, and woke up in his bed in the dorm. Now, that was a weird dream. He lay for a minute trying to figure it out. 

The man dropping in for the day luxuriated in the warmth and softness; it was a while since he’d slept anywhere so comfortable. He would have smiled, but he had no control over the boy whose body he was inhabiting. And Remus wouldn’t have smiled when he woke that particular morning. 

However, the boy in the bed turned at the sound of footsteps, and then he did smile, and sat up expectantly. The curtains parted, and Sirius whispered, ‘Budge over.’ He leaned toward Remus and they kissed, a lingering, expert kiss that probably went on for a good ten minutes, yet felt like just a few seconds.

The kiss summed up everything that had been missing all these long years. The man’s heart leapt, just as the boy’s did, filled to overflowing with this wonderful emotion. He’d so missed being in love, with its extremes of joy and misery... The terrors of the hours to come loomed ahead, but his worries vanished with Sirius in his bed, his hands everywhere, ministering to Remus until he gave a choked cry, and Sirius whispered, ‘Ssh, Moony, for heaven’s sake! I forgot the charm.’

Remus didn’t care. For a moment he felt a joy so pure that both the man he was and the boy he’d been could have wept with it.

Remus was grateful that he'd once been uninhibited enough to lie and look straight into Sirius’s eyes. He drank in the beloved, beautiful face, with its high cheekbones, and the big grin that Sirius never quite managed for anyone else, even Prongs. Oh, Sirius, Sirius… He was dying to put his arms round Sirius, tell him he adored him. And so was the Remus of long ago, but he would never have dared. Instead, he blushed a bit, ducked, and said, ‘Padfoot, you shouldn’t have. We’re in enough trouble already.’

‘ _You_ are. ’

‘So are you,’ Remus said indignantly. It was peculiar talking without any apparent input into what you were saying; no doubt one of those strange perceptions the old man had mentioned.

‘I’m seventeen. And come on, Moony, aren’t you a bit glad my parents aren’t going to get any more involved? They’d probably run you out of the country on a rail or whatever those Muggles do.’

‘They’d probably Avada Kedavra me.’

‘I wouldn’t let them.’ Sirius wrapped his arms round Remus again, and the older Remus felt the boy’s worry receding. While Sirius was there, while they were together, nothing could hurt them. Though come to think of it, it was precisely _because_ they were together that this was going to be a really awful day. 

‘We better get up. I want this whole bloody mess out of the way.’

Sirius was laughing. ‘Getting dressed at six o’clock isn’t going to make the day go faster! More likely the opposite. Hey, c’mere. You got off and I didn’t. Not fair.’

No, not fair, and Remus was very happy to redress the balance. The Remus in the background knew, of course, exactly the status of their sexual progress on this particular date in their history. They had not yet gone all the way, as he still put it to himself, in the Shack: that would be happening about a week from now, and the memory, the triumph and glory of actually having had sex, still lingered all those years later. He had nearly chosen that day: but this one was just a fraction more luminous. 

He thought of the first time still to come as Remus kissed Sirius all down his body, lost in the sensations of his younger self touching and caressing; and by the time he’d finished he was wanting Sirius again so much it hurt. He’d forgotten the lusts of sixteen, the way the body was so impatient and just couldn’t wait. Especially when the most gorgeous, wonderful person in the world was right beside you.

‘You really are fucking insatiable, aren’t you?’ Sirius teased.

 _Yes, but only with you, because I can’t and won’t and never will get enough of you._ He put his arms round Sirius and drew him close. _We had this at least. It’s something to hold on to, isn’t it?_

There was the sound of a shrill alarm. ‘Oh, bugger, Prongs’ll be up. C’mon, Moony, I better go.’

Remus, on automatic pilot, got up, got washed and dressed, and oh, no, no. If he’d been in charge of the body, his knees would have buckled. _James, dear James, oh God, just to see you one more time… I don’t know if I can bear it._

James was holding a small hand mirror and trying to style his untidy hair with a wand and a tube of gel. Remus laughed, genuinely amused, but was surprised by the slight edginess he felt as he watched. _Edgy about James? About Prongs? But I loved him so much._

Remus said, ‘Good morning, Prongs,’ quite naturally, though his stomach was clenching itself in knots. Now, what was that all about? The feelings the adult Remus had experienced so far, the love, being with Sirius, were old and familiar, forged into his blood and his bone, but he had completely forgotten this one. He tested it. So obvious, really. Him and Sirius, having secrets, terrified of James finding out.

‘Okay, Moony, are you going to tell us?’ James asked, applying gel liberally.

‘I already did.’

‘Come on! You don’t lose your prefect’s badge because Snivellus knows you’re a werewolf. You’d have lost it months ago, anyway.’

Remus avoided his eyes. ‘I know. He was probably waiting to eat his revenge cold or something.’

‘Hey, Prongs, leave him. He doesn’t want to talk about it.’ Remus at sixteen would have known this, but older Remus was surprised that Sirius also felt edgy toward James. But then, it was his secret too.

‘Can’t you lot just shut up?’ A querulous, still rather high-pitched voice. Remus didn’t think he could bear to look, but he had to, because on this long-ago morning he had looked, had smiled, had said in an astonishingly conciliatory voice, ‘Sorry to wake you and all, Wormtail, but we’ve got to be at breakfast in ten minutes.’

He was glad he hadn’t remembered how awkward it felt to walk into the Great Hall for breakfast today, with pupils at all four tables staring at him curiously, how the lack of the prefect’s badge on his robes assumed such weight and importance as the whispers followed him. When he thought about it, he did recall a few of the rumours, most of them fairly farfetched – ‘Lupin started a fire in the Slytherin girls’ dorm’ - none of them remotely correct, thank goodness. The distance between the door and the Gryffindor table felt like miles, and when he finally sat down he was unable to eat a thing. 

After breakfast, Professor McGonagall stopped Remus on the way out of the Hall. Both Remuses knew this was going to happen, were expecting it, but all the same his stomach clenched again as she approached, the way it had with James. Had he really been so nervous? Thank God he’d outgrown that, at least.

‘Mr. Lupin, please don’t forget your appointment. My office, at break. Wait outside and I’ll come and fetch you when we’re ready.’

‘Yes, Professor McGonagall.’ He avoided her eyes too. _I was a furtive little bugger, wasn’t I? No wonder Padfoot thought I was the spy._

The first lesson was Herbology. It was a beautiful May morning, warm but not hot, smelling of newly mown grass and sunshine. Remus drew in deep, appreciative breaths of the sweet air with its faint haze as they strolled to the greenhouses. 

He knew what they would be doing, of course. Herbology was far from his best subject, but they were working with Muggle ferns, which contained a narcotic substance that acted as a powerful painkiller for wizards. Remus loved the ferns: their delicate fronds, their green, earthy smell, the feel of them tickling, caressing his hands and face as he potted them. He was disappointed at how careless he had been then – for goodness’ sake, how had the boy ever passed his Herbology OWL when he couldn’t even tamp the soil neatly down in the flowerpot? – but he enjoyed his vague daydreams about Sirius. 

Sirius was on the other side of the greenhouse, and they occasionally looked up and glanced at each other. Remus was astounded how comforting those glances were, how every time his eye caught Sirius’s, there’d be a lick of flame in his stomach that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with the way he felt when he just thought of Sirius, of his hands and mouth, of his laughter, of his stupid bloody puns. He fell into the serious/Sirius trap all the time, he recollected fondly. But there were also endless plays on ‘lupine’ and wolves and flowers. 

The bell rang for break, and they trooped back up to the castle. James lingered behind, trying to strike up a conversation with Lily Evans, and Sirius caught up with Remus, flinging an arm round his shoulder.

‘I’ll come and wait with you, okay?’

‘No, don’t. I’ll be fine. Anyway, I don’t really want McGonagall to keep seeing us together.’

‘She’ll have to get used to it. For Merlin’s sake, we’re _friends_ , aren’t we? She should know that by now.’

‘Why don’t you go and have your snack? It’s Chelsea buns today.’

‘Tell you what, I’ll bring you one. Be along in a sec.’ And Sirius loped off to the Great Hall, as at least three girls gazed after him lasciviously. Remus stared after him too, for a full minute, before sighing and hoisting his book bag to his shoulder and making his way to McGonagall’s office.

He leaned against the wall outside and tried to think of something other than the confrontation with his parents that was about to happen. Older Remus knew how it had turned out, of course, but younger Remus was frankly scared and embarrassed. He wanted to hide in the Shack for a few weeks and not come out until everything had blown over. He might, in the occasional melodramatic moment, feel that his thing with Sirius was worth every ounce of anguish, but he didn’t want actually to suffer the anguish.

He stared fixedly at the portrait opposite, a sleeping lion that never seemed to wake up. He was tempted to go and poke at it, as Sirius had once, but decided that he was enervated enough already.

Instead, he fantasised about how he would run off with Sirius. Sirius was going to buy his own place soon, and they would leave school and live together there. It sounded wonderfully wicked, and Remus found his mouth curving in a smile. He shivered slightly too as he thought of Sirius touching him…

He jumped when he felt Sirius’s hand on his arm. ‘Hey, wake up. Here’s a nice bun. And some milk.’

‘Is the milk warm again?’

‘Not yours. I performed a wonderful cooling charm on it specially for you.’ Sirius leaned over and his lips brushed against Remus’s. Remus pushed him away.

‘For goodness’ sake, Sirius. My parents are in there! And McGonagall’s going to be out at any second.’

_I pushed him away! I pushed Sirius away!_

Sirius looked aggrieved. ‘Oh, all right.’

Remus felt a stab of guilt at his miserable expression. ‘Padfoot. You know it’s not you. You know – ’ He leaned his forehead against Sirius’s shoulder. ‘I just, I just want us to be together, without it being a big deal.’

Sirius enclosed him in one of his big hugs. ‘Moony. We will. It’s nearly the holidays.’

_I can’t believe I did that! However did I dare? McGonagall about to come and fetch me, and my parents waiting, and I go and let Sirius hug me, and oh, God, I am so glad I did because it feels so wonderful. Warm and safe, and I want to hug you for all eternity, Sirius. I wish I could, oh, I wish I could, but this will do for now. At least I have this again._

They sprang apart seconds before the door opened, but McGonagall looked daggers at them all the same. ‘Mr. Black, you have no need to be here. I think you had better run along to Potions. Mr. Lupin, your parents are ready to have a word.’

Remus reluctantly followed her in. He knew what came next: he didn’t want to relive it, but without it he wouldn’t have the rest of the day, and he so needed the rest of that day if he was to go on at all.

McGonagall, rather stiffly, said, ‘Your parents want to talk to you by yourself for a moment.’

He wondered what exactly she’d told them, what variation on Spying Snape Sees Black and Lupin Snogging. Had she played it light? He doubted it. Had she spouted about phases and hormones and adolescent boys? Probably not, at a mixed school like Hogwarts. 

McGonagall opened the door to her private office, which was a white, rather sterile cubby hole off her main office, with three upright orange upholstered chairs and a fire burning in the grate, in spite of the warmth of the morning, presumably so his parents could Floo to Hogwarts and home again.

He felt completely torn in two for a moment. His adult self was flooded with a happiness that was almost pain, a love unike his love for Sirius, but deep and abiding nonetheless. It had been so long! His father was only about five years older than he was now, he realised with a shock, his mother round the same age. They looked incredibly young to his adult self, just as they looked old and nondescript to young Remus. After all, they were only his parents; he found them stupid and boring. He was absolutely mortified to see them here, knowing they knew what they knew.

But they were dead, and had been briefly brought back to life. Yet he couldn’t fling his arms around them and cry unashamedly and say he was sorry he hadn’t valued them enough, hadn’t appreciated their sacrifices for him more fully.

All he could do was stand for a moment, deep in thought, then look up and meet his father’s eyes unflinchingly. ‘What did McGonagall tell you?’ he asked. _Well, I was a Gryffindor_ , older Remus thought, almost impressed.

‘Oh, well,’ his father said, looking away. ‘She told us something about you and that friend of yours, er – ’

‘Sirius Black,’ his mother supplied. She was steadfastly looking down at the carpet. Remus thought she might have been crying.

‘Well,’ Remus said. ‘Did she mention anything about Severus Snape?’

‘Uh, yes, the other boy, the one who -- ’

‘Was spying on us,’ Remus said. ‘Look, I know I deserved to lose my badge. I’m sorry. I was stupid. But McGonagall hasn’t really let us explain. I’m sure you will.’

_How did I manage to stay so calm?_

He took a deep breath. ‘It was a joke. Snape is always spying on us, and we saw him and we thought we’d give him something to look at. So we pretended to kiss each other.’

‘You kissed each other!’ his mother said, scandalised.

‘Oh. Didn’t McGonagall mention that?’ You bloody _idiot_ , Remus chided himself.

‘She did, yes. I think your poor mother was a bit traumatised, by that stage.’

‘No need to be, Mum,’ said Remus in a mock-cheerful tone that set even his teeth on edge. ‘It was a joke. We weren’t really kissing. It’s okay.’

Both his parents perked up to such an extent that it actually hurt. Shit, was the truth that bad? No wonder he felt he had to lie to them. 

McGonagall knocked tactfully on the door and came back in. ‘Have you had a chat with your parents, Mr. Lupin?’

‘Everything’s sorted out, Professor,’ his mother replied chirpily, ‘Remus has explained that it was only a joke.’

‘It was silly and irresponsible,’ his father added. ‘He deserved to lose his badge. But no harm done, fortunately, eh?’

McGonagall gave Remus a very sharp look but said nothing. ‘Well, I’m glad you’ve discussed it now. I’m so sorry to have called you in. As Remus is only sixteen, the Headmaster and I had no choice.’

‘No problem, none at all,’ said Remus’s father heartily. ‘Pleased we got it all sorted.’

When they were gone, Professor McGonagall, said, ‘Now, Mr. Lupin, we’d better get along to Transfiguration.’

They went down the draughty corridor, McGonagall uttering the occasional pleasantry, about the NEWT mocks, Remus responding politely, not really taking much in. After the tension of the past twenty-four hours, he felt almost light-headed with relief.

Just outside the Transfiguration classroom, McGonagall stopped abruptly and said, in what was, for her, a gentle voice, ‘You know, Remus, if you ever need to talk about any problems, I am your Head of House and you can always come to me. All right?’

‘Yes. Thank you,’ Remus stuttered. He could feel his face going red, and cursed himself for having fair skin and a low embarrassment threshold. He preferred her acerbic and calling him Mr Lupin.

He escaped into the classroom and plonked himself down in his usual seat at the back, waiting for the others to come in from Potions. 

Sirius sat next to him, looked at him expectantly and mouthed, ‘Well?’

‘Ssh. McGonagall’s watching us.’

They got out their textbooks, and listened to a long lecture about why transfiguring animate to inanimate objects was only legal if certain precautions were taken. Remus tried to scribble down a few notes, but was distracted by Sirius tearing a strip off his parchment. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sirius flick his wand slightly, and the parchment landed silently in front of Remus. He flicked his own wand, and it opened. _‘What did they say? Are they angry?’_

Remus shook his head. 

McGonagall and Peter handed out hedgehogs. Remus herded his into the centre of the desk with the edge of his quill, remembering the legality clause, which wasn’t unlike the disclaimer he had signed in Knockturn Alley a few hours ago. _This animal fully agrees to its Transfiguration and understands that it is only temporary_ … He swished his wand and it turned into a slightly lopsided tea cosy. He decided to add a patchwork pattern.

Sirius scrolled some lace around the edge of his rather more accomplished tea cosy. He then put down his wand and said, ‘C’mon, tell me.’

McGonagall was helping a few Hufflepuffs who couldn’t get the incantation right. Remus lowered his voice and explained to Sirius what he’d said. Sirius squawked, ‘Bloody hell!’

‘Language, Mr Black! Five points from Gryffindor.’

‘Shit,’ Sirius murmured. ‘Honestly, Moony. D’you really think you’ll be able to hide this from your parents forever?’

‘It’s all right for you. You didn’t have yours sitting in McGonagall’s office looking like the world had come to an end. I think they were less upset when I was bitten.’

‘I had mine calling me a filthy pervert and every foul name under the sun,’ Sirius said grimly.

Remus suddenly felt as if he were about to cry. ‘Look. I did what I could. I panicked.’

McGonagall came round to check their cosies, and told Remus off. ‘I do not accept sloppiness at NEWT level. Look at those seams! Do that again, Mr. Lupin.’ The adult Remus cringed. If he could have apologised profusely for the teenage Remus, he would have done so.

The bell rang for lunch, and after lunch there was History of Magic. It was a sadistic move on the part of the professors that everyone had to continue the subject after OWLs, even though virtually nobody took History of Magic NEWT. ‘We aim to provide a rounded education,’ Professor Dumbledore explained when irate parents challenged him on this.

The last thing Remus wanted was to spend his precious day sleeping. But the night, which he had not relived, had been rather a short one, with Sirius in his bed and both of them awake until well past midnight, not to mention his being up so early that morning. So he had actually slept through Binns’s lesson on that long, drowsy afternoon so far in the past. 

He duly closed his eyes and within moments was immersed in the dream of twenty-two years ago, featuring him and Sirius and a flying horse. Adult Remus, hovering in limbo, was worried that he would never wake up, would somehow miss the rest of his single magical day. He was intensely relieved when he was jerked awake by Peter poking him, and resurfaced to the sound of the professor’s familiar drone.

Then, the school day was over. The man knew it would be the last time he would ever spend a day at Hogwarts, either as a pupil or a teacher. He had no more possessions to pay the shopkeeper in Knockturn Alley, for a start. 

However, Remus at sixteen was pleased that the dreaded interview with his parents hadn’t gone too badly, that he didn’t have much homework and it was chocolate cake for tea. He and Sirius sat together in the common room, and James came over and perched on the edge of Sirius’s chair.

‘Hey, you two. Never seem to see you any more, Padfoot. Where did you get to during break?’

He didn’t wait for an answer, because Lily Evans walked past them, and James got that glazed look that was probably, Remus reflected, similar to the expression he wore when he was watching Sirius. ‘Okay, Padfoot, Moony. Gotta go. She knows what the Charms homework is, and I missed it.’

Remus and Sirius glanced at each other and smiled and shrugged.

Adult Remus was, he had to admit, extremely annoyed with his younger self while he was doing his homework. For goodness’ sake! How could he not even have tried? Had he been so busy thinking about Sirius that he only just made the required length on his Defence essay? He wondered how he'd ever developed a reputation for being studious at school. Let alone become a professor.

The Remus at school, the Remus who was in love with Sirius Black, shoved his rather sketchy homework away in his bag, and put it upstairs in the dorm. He ate a huge supper of roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, tinned peaches and custard. 

Afterwards, Sirius grabbed him by the hand, and said, ‘C’mon, let’s go for a walk.’

The May evening was mild, and it was still light, though the first stars were just beginning to come out in the sky. They strolled along hand in hand. _I don’t understand how we were so careless. We’d just been caught! When was I ever so young and reckless?_ Something in the older man broke a bit when he thought that.

They sat against the tree looking out over the lake, which was calm and glassy on this beautiful evening.

‘Moony,’ Sirius said hesitantly, ‘that thing about it being a joke. You were just saying it, weren’t you?’

The tone of his voice, a bit – guarded? – tore at Remus’s soul. ‘Yes, I was. I didn’t mean it.’ Now, was that the right answer or the wrong one? Why did being in love make you so insecure, so uncertain? In a moment, Sirius would say something like, ‘Oh. Well, I think you had a point, actually. Perhaps we shouldn’t take this so seriously.’ And he’d smile a bit at the pun, as he always did, but not one of his big, wide smiles.

Or maybe Remus had offended him so much that he was going to suggest they went back to being just friends, before they got into any more trouble.

The adult Remus knew what was coming – that was, after all, why he’d chosen this particular day in the first place – but the boy didn’t. His palms were sweaty, and he had to wipe them on his robes. His heart was pounding and filled with hopeless, desperate fear, and adoration for Sirius, with his dark hair hanging in his eyes, who was pulling him over for a kiss.

‘I’m glad it’s not a joke. Because, I think, well. I may be in love with you, Moony.’

And Remus, still just a bit afraid to make the full admission, replied, ‘I think I’m in love with you too.’

It was ridiculous how a few silly, short words could change everything, could make the world spin upside down and dizzy, make you want to laugh and cry, and turn cartwheels over the grass. But because Sirius was, after all, of age, and Remus was a mature young man of sixteen, they didn’t actually turn cartwheels, though both of them would secretly have liked to.

The sky grew dark, and the new moon was clearly visible, hanging benevolently in the sky.

‘Make a wish,’ said Sirius, and Remus made a wish that his older self knew would never come true.

They lay quietly in each other’s arms on the grass, which was eventually drenched with dew. The scents of the night, somehow so much headier and more powerful than the scents of the day, wafted across the lake: flowers and new leaves and fresh water. Remus knew he had never been so happy; and he knew that he would never be as happy again.

Very soon, they would fall asleep outside, under the night sky, and when they woke Remus’s precious day would be over, and he would be back in the dingy shop again. The moon set, and the world was utterly silent; and Remus reflected that these last few seconds of wakefulness were the last few he would ever spend with Sirius. 

Just before he drifted to sleep, with an immense effort, he said the words he had never had the chance to say before. 

‘Goodbye, Padfoot. Love you.’

He was sure Sirius heard him; but he had interfered, he had torn through the barrier and broken the spell.

*

The old man, still in exactly the same position behind his counter said, ‘The time was nearly up anyway.’

‘I know.’

‘Hope it was worth it.’ He nodded towards Remus’s meagre possessions on the counter.

‘It was.’

Remus left the shop, one of the last standing in Knockturn Alley, and the bell on the door jangled merrily as he opened it. He walked back through the ruins of Diagon Alley, to a world so destroyed that not one of those children at Hogwarts so many years ago would have begun to recognise it.

He didn’t even notice. All he saw was the sun, gentle in the autumn sky, and he felt a slight breeze and smelt the dusty, petrol smells of London on a September afternoon. For the first time in years, he was almost at peace, and the constant ache in his heart was just a little lighter.

**End**

**Author's Note:**

> This was written before Half-Blood Prince, and it seemed reasonable to expect that Remus would survive the second war and be all on his own. Unfortunately for the fic, Tonks came along and Remus died, so there was no way to amend it to be canon-compliant. It was never supposed to be AU, though I've now added the relevant tag.


End file.
